In Shadows
by Galen Hithwen
Summary: A tale of love and the hardships that come with accepting someone, flaws and all, no matter what they've done. F!Hawke x Anders. Post DA II. DA II ENDING SPOILERS! Rated M for language and mature content for later chapters. WIP
1. Chapter 1

Hello to all! This is my first DA fic and my first het fic actually, though I'm no stranger to the fan fiction arena. I'm typically a slash writer and enthusiast but this story line really called to me and it has been ages since I've written anything so I thought to myself, why the hell not? XD

I'll warn you now there are MAJOR SPOLERS FOR DA II! IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED THE GAME AND DO NOT WISH TO KNOW THE ENDING DO NOT READ THIS!

There. I think there's enough exclamation points. You've been warned. ;)

This fic is F!Hawke x Anders. It's post DA II.

The rating is for use of language, mature content and who knows what else I might feel like adding. So really it's just to be on the safe side should I decide something crazy later on.

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Hawke sat at a table near the back of the tavern, parked in front of the fireplace for warmth with something Dwarven known as "fire whiskey" to dull her thoughts. Her mind had been on overdrive ever since her last few days in Kirkwall. She couldn't shut it off – no matter her best efforts. Thoughts of the blood on her hands, the chaos in a place she was beginning to call home but worse yet; the betrayal of someone she thought she knew.

_How could he do it?_ She kept repeating over and over again in her head. Even with his explanation it seemed like needless terrorism. Hawke was never the chantry's biggest fan but the people in that building were innocent. She couldn't wrap her head around doing such a thing, no matter the motives. And for that person to be Anders… Hawke's fingers tightened into a fist, knuckles popping, as she resisted the urge to slam her fist on the table and cause a scene just to vent her anger.

She lifted her glass to her lips and took another long swig from the tankard, draining the last of its contents. She held the empty tankard up and the bartender nodded, preparing another one for a serving girl to take over to her. Hawke's eyes drifted over to a hooded figure on the opposite side of the tavern. He sat in the shadows, very still and quiet, sipping his flagon of ale and observing the people around him casually. His crimson hood obscured his face, like Hawke, and made her wonder who he was hiding from and what his purpose was. She couldn't help but get an uneasy feeling about him; like he was watching her.

Maybe she was just paranoid from living in Kirkwall.

All the same she pulled her hood a little lower, the only visible part of her face being her lips and chin as the rest remained in shadow. Better safe than sorry. She'd escaped from Kirkwall to avoid the backlash against the "Champion". Last thing she needed was some Fereldan spy, or perhaps an Antivan Assassin, giving away her whereabouts. She needed time to regroup her thoughts and figure out what her next move would be. Alone.

Varric had tried to convince her to take him with her but she had declined. As much as she'd come to rely on her Dwarven friend, he was tied in too closely with "Champion Hawke". Where the Champion was, so was Varric. It was common knowledge and something she couldn't have following her back to Fereldan. She missed his humour right now though. Left to her own thoughts she felt she was falling into something of a depression that the dwarf's sordid stories always seemed to lift, even in the darkest times.

She hoped he was keeping an eye on Bethany like he'd promised he would. The others too. She knew they could take care of themselves but after the years they'd spent defending one another she couldn't help but feel a little protective. Hawke had always been comfortable being alone before she became the Champion, but the constant company of her friends had grown on her over the years and now she found that something was definitely missing now that she was "home".

Fereldan. She had mixed feelings about being back home. The smell of the air, the landscapes, even the people felt more familiar than the dry and coastal Kirkwall ever had. Even its tiny mountains like Sundermount didn't compare to the Frostbacks which could be seen from anywhere in Fereldan. The miserable weather made her nostalgic too. She felt at peace even as a tempest raged outside, pelting the wooden door of the Gnawed Noble with raindrops big as chestnuts. Some found it hard to sleep when a storm raged outside but for Hawke it was like the sweetest of lullabies. She wished she could be returning with her family, but Bethany was all that remained and she had wanted to stay and fight with the Circle mages. Hawke sighed, scolding herself for thinking of her family when all it did was darken her mood.

The serving maid dropped off the fresh tankard of whiskey and Hawke silently passed her some coin; the maid thanking her profusely for the generous tip as she made her way back to the bar. Hawke was taking another long sip from the tankard when the crash of thunder sounded behind her, indicating that the door to the tavern had opened briefly. She continued to stare at the flames of the fireplace ahead of her, wondering what would have happened if she'd just remained here and faced the Blight like so many others.

Two hooded figures sat at her table and she glanced up from the flames curiously, keeping her face hidden. It wasn't until a voice came from under one hood that she recognized the owner immediately.

A masculine voice with a hint of childishness sounded from the hood of the bulkier cloaked figure, "Honestly, I don't understand why we have to run around in hoods like thieves in the night. It's all very dramatic and everything but-"

"Us rogues are most comfortable in the shadows love… Just trying to make Hawke comfortable. Besides, we fit right in now. Look around, loads of people in cloaks…" a sultry feminine voice replied.

Hawke sighed, turning back to the flames, "What brings your majesties out from the safety of the palace on such a terrible evening?" she asked tonelessly.

"Oh would you see that? She knew it was us anyways… All this sneaking for nothing…" Alistair complained, about to pull his hood down when his hand was slapped away by his companion.

"Don't you dare. There are half a dozen nobles in here that would start talking our ears off. Honestly, if I have to sit there and listen to one more of them complain about some _ridiculous_ issue like the lack of colours of Orlesian silks in the marketplace or that we don't attend enough balls I will tear my hair out. I've yet to hear a noble with a legitimate complaint for us to remedy."

"Missing the darkspawn already Cousland?" Hawke asked with a smirk.

"At least the darkspawn are forward enough with their motives. These nobles… there's no pleasing them. Easier just to gut them all… but the seneschal tells me that's not very "queen like"," she grumbled from under her hood, motioning to the bartender for some drinks.

"I hate to say I told you so but I _tooold_ you so," Alistair drawled, "I never wanted to be king and this is why. Much easier to be a Grey Warden. Hacking this and slashing that is so much simpler than politics. Ew. And you have double duty my dear: Queen of Ferledan and Commander of the Grey. You're spreading yourself too thin."

"Nonsense," she said, waving her hand dismissively, "Impossible to give up being a Warden, not that I would ever dream of such a thing and I was _not_ going to let that wretch Anora be queen again. That girl took a little too much after her father. Manipulative and conniving to the core-"

"Not that I'm not happy to see you both," Hawke interrupted with a roll of her eyes that was hidden in shadow, "But to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Why ever are you staying here Hawke? If you'd told us you'd returned to Fereldan we would have put you up in the castle," Alistair asked, getting off track once again, "What decent nobility would we be if we let the Champion of Kirkwall stay in a dreary tavern."

"Hush Alistair," his wife said, passing him a flagon of ale and accepting the other for herself from the serving maid. She waited until she was out of earshot before turning back to Alistair, "Ever think that's precisely why she's here? She doesn't want the pomp that comes with being the Champion. Honestly I think you have the right idea Hawke… free to do what you will under the cloak of anonymity…" She raised the flagon to her lips with a smile like a child on their birthday. "Mmm ale. Getting a hold of this in the castle is near impossible. _"The queen does not drink something as common as __**beer**__…"_ What a load of bullocks," Cousland groused, "I grew up on Fereldan ale, stumbling out of the tavern in Highever with Rory since we were thirteen. Apparently all these nobles drink is the finest aged Orlesian wine. _Please_… idiot advisors. Alistair it's not poisoned," she added shortly, after her long rant.

She must have noticed that Hawke was staring at him. He looked at the tankard like he was afraid of it or something. "You know I don't handle my drink well my dear… you have about a decade of practice on me…" he complained, "It wasn't as though there was a lot of ale to go around in the Chantry or with the Templars."

Hawke shuddered involuntarily at the talk of templars and chantries. Visions of the Chantry being blown to pieces along with the corpses of templars around her swam to life in front of her eyes and she quickly tipped the tankard of whiskey to her lips again. "The point. Get to it. I'm weary from my travels today."

"I heard… what Anders did," Cousland offered up finally, lips a thin line. "I can't believe it. I told our spies it wasn't possible. Not Anders. Someone who names their cat Sir Pounce-A-Lot is not capable of killing innocents. I know him. He would never…"

"I thought I knew him too," Hawke said grimly, eyes narrowing as she looked back at the fire. "He's not the same man that fought with you against the Architect. He's so much more bitter… about life. The templars. It's Justice."

"Justice?" Cousland asked, biting her lip, "But what… Oh no. He didn't."

"Alright well I'm confused…" Alistair said simply, drinking from the flagon.

The two rogues ignored him as they continued their conversation like they hadn't been interrupted.

"He did. It's not Anders anymore. Maybe I never really knew Anders. Maybe it was Justice the whole time. Or some combination of the two. In any case… he's not the mage you used to know. Justice has warped his mind. It twisted his thoughts so that he actually thought what he was doing was right. How he could think there would ever be justice in the killing of innocents is beyond me…"

"Then it's true. He did blow up the Chantry," Cousland said quietly. "I can't… I didn't want to believe it."

"Well believe it… he even let me help him do it. I should have killed the bastard!" Hawke growled, fist tightening in frustration at herself, "I let my emotions cloud my judgement. He didn't care about killing all those people, so I shouldn't have cared about killing him. I've killed men for murdering just one person, let alone in the numbers of that massacre. I just… I couldn't do it…"

"You love him. It can't be helped…" Cousland said, a sad smile crossing the part of her face that was visible. "Try and explain it, but love makes us all do stupid things. Alistair did something for me that I could never have asked anyone to do… but because he did we're both still here today."

"It's not the same…" Hawke said, shaking her head. "You didn't have to decide between whether or not he would live. His life was not in your hands with hundreds calling for his death. I failed the people of Kirkwall because I loved too blindly"

"If you saw him again would you try and right that mistake?" the queen asked, taking another sip of her ale.

"I don't know," Hawke answered truthfully. "I'd like to say yes. He deserves to die for his crimes. Whether or not I could actually go through with it. Probably not. I would want to though…"

Cousland sighed softly, settling back in her chair a little more, her boots resting on the bench across from her, "I don't think you really want him dead. I think despite all this you still love him."

"Don't presume to know how I'm feeling your majesty…" Hawke warned, voice a low growl. "I could kill him. He's dangerous and his judgement is clearly not to be trusted. I would be saving lives if I ended his."

"Never the less I think your words are empty," Cousland stated, draining the last of her flagon. Her hand rubbed along Alistair's shoulders, a slight smirk crossing her face to see him half-asleep on the table. "Come love… let us away back to the castle to leave Hawke with her thoughts." He mumbled something incoherent that might have been a goodbye as he slouched towards the door like a sleeping child who was roused and told to go to bed. "I didn't believe Zevran when he told me. I should know better than to doubt his information. I am… heartbroken to hear that Anders has done this to himself. I can honestly say that I hope you figure this out Hawke. I don't know how to help you but… if you need my assistance for anything. Just ask. Not an easy thing for people like us, but don't hesitate to do so. Fair thee well my friend" She turned to leave, cloak flowing out behind her as she drifted off noiselessly to catch up with Alistair.

Hawke jumped up from where she was sitting. Something had been bothering her and she had to know. Years of perfecting her stealth technique made her footsteps silent and she blended with the shadows as she crept to the door to catch the royal pair. Cousland jumped when she spoke, "How did you find me anyways?" Hawke queried, "I was so careful."

"Zevran," Cousland said casually, a smirk crossing her face. "He knew it was you the moment you got off the ship."

They left the tavern and Hawke was left there feeling as dumbfounded as ever. What an utterly pointless visit. Did Cousland honestly just want to know if Anders was really behind the attack? Did she have some other motive? It seemed like too much trouble for her to come all the way down here just to ask something she already knew to be true. Hawke was suspicious. She knew the Commander trusted the Antivan Assassin's word implicitly; he was as close to a best friend as she had. It would be like Hawke doubting Varric. He had a tendency to lie, but never to her.

Feeling uneasy once again, Hawke took herself to the room she had rented and locked the door behind her. She leaned heavily against it and sighed. The question still bothered her. Would she kill Anders if she saw him again? She wanted to avenge those innocent people but to kill the love of her life to do it? She'd had a chance to do it and she'd hesitated told him to run. She didn't want to kill him but she hadn't wanted to help him either. Still, hadn't he returned to help her in the final battle? Hadn't she accepted that help?

He'd disappeared after Meredith though and she had no idea what had happened to him. Was he afraid that she would kill him after all was said and done or was he setting off to destroy more innocents to bring justice in the name of the mages? Too many questions and not enough answers.

Her piercing green eyes scanned the room for any possible intruders before she pulled her cloak off and tossed it aside. The only entry was through the door she had just locked, so she felt somewhat secure in sleeping here. She was a light sleeper and would hear if anyone tried to lock pick the door. She untied the leather thong that held her raven hair in the bun at the back of her head and shook it loose. Stripping down to her small clothes and a simple tunic she crawled in to bed, exhausted from the travel and feeling the need for a good long rest.

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Chapter one for you all :) Hope it was alright. Please review and constructive criticism is always welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

I already had the second chapter written so I figured I would post it straight away. Hope you enjoyed the first one, so here! Have some Anders!

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It was early in the morning when a slight breeze ruffled the sheets in her room. She was instantly awake but remained still; eyes closed and ears straining for the slightest of sounds. The footsteps were quiet but not _that _quiet… this person was not an assassin or rogue. The slightest brush of fingertips slid across her cheek, brushing her hair out of her eyes and with that she reacted. Shoving the hand away she drew the dagger from under her pillow in one swift movement, drawing it up to the intruder's throat only for the sound of it clashing against something solid and wooden. It was as thought they had expected Hawke to try and slit their throat. This was most certainly someone who knew her.

"Ev… it's me…" a familiar voice, whispered softly.

With an angry growl, Hawke pushed the body back against the door and threw her other dagger from the bedside table so that it pinned the intruder to the door, the dagger catching in his tunic but missing his shoulder narrowly.

She lit the torch on the wall beside her bed and felt her eyes narrow. The man in the crimson hood from earlier was pinned to her door. To his credit he didn't struggle, just stood there, pinned and helpless. She could easily throw the other dagger in her hand and kill him. Her grip tightened on the hilt and she tossed it. The dagger caught the hem of the hood and dragged it back to reveal the intruder's face. She just shook her head, jaw clenching in anger as her suspicions from earlier were confirmed. Anders.

"You bastard. How dare you! What the hell are you doing here?" she growled, voice low and threatening. Warning him not to do anything foolish as she was in no mood to be trifled with. Who did he think he was coming after her? Hadn't she made it perfectly clear that she would never forgive him for what he did?

"Ev I-" he began, pleading in his voice and eyes. He was trying for her forgiveness but it was a pointless task. Hawke did not easily forgive offences against herself, her family or innocents. And Anders had succeeded in committing one hell of a big offence.

"Don't! Don't call me that you son of a bitch. You lost that right when you killed all those innocent people," she sat back on the bed and put her head in her hands. "How could you? How _could_ you?"

"I told you already Hawke. I had to…" he said softly, looking down at the floor. "I'm not happy about it, but I don't take it back."

Hawke crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at him, "You're not helping your case. How did you know it was me anyways? I was careful and covered my tracks." She was beginning to think she'd been overly careless when she came back to Fereldan. It seems all those years of being the Champion had made her soft. It used to be near impossible to find Hawke if she wanted to remain hidden. First Queen Cousland and now Anders... she was losing her abilities clearly.

"That hood might work with hiding you from most people but I'd know those lips anywhere," he said, the slightest of smiles turning up the corner of his lips.

Hawke rolled her eyes, breath coming out in an annoyed huff. Did he really think such lines would work on her right now? Delusional mage. "You disgust me. I should kill you where you stand…"

"Then do it," Anders said challengingly, holding his hands wide and offering himself to her, "I deserve it."

"You do," she agreed, looking up at him and studying his features. His eyes looked so honest. Like he really would just let her kill him. Unbelievable. She looked away, angry at herself for her weakness for this man. If it were anyone else they would be dead but it was… him. Someone she'd come to care about somewhat deeply. Someone she'd built a life with in Kirkwall. It was hard to believe that after all the years she'd lived with and loved the man before her she hadn't really known him at all. It was disheartening and made her wonder if she could really trust anyone at all if she'd been so easily fooled.

"You really can't kill me, can you?" he asked, realization in his voice. "I thought you might have been lying to the Commander but-"

"How did you hear that conversation from across the tavern… our voices were too low," Hawke asked suspiciously, starting to wonder if Cousland hadn't been leading the questions for Anders' benefit. They had been good friends while they were Wardens. She had more cause to help Anders than Hawke. Hawke felt disappointed in herself for not realizing the set-up. It seemed so obvious now.

"A spell I learned from a Tevinter mage. It enables you to hear more clearly… even across a noisy tavern. I heard everything you said to the Commander. I know I hurt you, but I couldn't tell you. You would have tried to stop me," he brought a hand up and pulled the dagger out from where it was pinning the fabric of his tunic to the door. Slipping out of the cloak that was still pinned by the other dagger he went to sit beside Hawke on the bed.

"I would have succeeded. You would have had to kill me too, you know that? Only death would have been able to stop me had I known what you were planning. And you would have wouldn't you? Had things been reversed? Justice would not have let me interfere. He would have murdered me just like the rest," she hissed out in bitter realisation, shaking her head as her long, straight locks fell in to her face, obscuring her expression from the mage. Maker she wanted to hit the bastard.

"I can't answer that," Anders said honestly, finally sitting down tentatively on the bed, "I want to say no, but… I don't know what I'd do. I don't know myself at all anymore. He's a part of me though. You know that. There's no way to separate us now."

Hawke shook her head, feeling sick, "I never knew Cousland was such a good actress. I assume Alistair didn't know about your plan. He's far too honest to have gone along with this little charade. I doubt he could tell the smallest of white lies."

"She was trying to help me," Anders explained, reaching out to brush Hawke's hair behind her ear again only to have his hand slapped roughly away. He pressed on despite the rejection for comfort. "She's my Commander. We've been through a lot together. I asked her to help me. I needed to know if I could even talk to you again. I've… missed you."

Hawke moved away from him, backing herself up against the wall, "Don't touch me. And I can't believe her… Why she would help a murderer like you I'll never understand. She seemed genuinely disgusted with what you did."

"She is," Anders said, biting his lip. He sighed and brushed his blonde hair out of his hazel eyes. "She hates that I did it this way but she knows Justice too. She knows… what he's like. She's still mad at me for deciding to take him in to me. She says I should have known better. I was just trying to help… I thought it would be fine, that I could handle it. Obviously I know better now, but it's too late. He'll be with me until the day I die now."

"I don't care. I don't want to hear about it. We're well past apologies and forgiveness. You should have thought about that before you acted." She laughed bitterly and shook her head again from frustration. She couldn't believe they were actually having this conversation. "You had to know how I would feel about this. That I would never be able to forgive you. You weren't thinking about anyone but yourself and your insane resentment towards the templars. They're not all animals, you know? I just…"

Hawke sighed heavily once again and pointed towards the door where his cloak was still pinned by her dagger. "Get out of here before I change my mind about murdering you. We might both be home in Fereldan but I don't want to see your face anymore. Here or anywhere. If you really do still love me, you'll respect my wishes for solitude. Now go."

"Hawke please… can't we just-" he started, only to be cut off sharply by a yell.

"Get OUT!" she screamed, grabbing him by the elbow when he didn't move and shoving him out her door. She roughly pulled the dagger out of his cloak from the back of the door and threw the balled up fabric in his face before slamming the door and locking it again. The lock would be useless against his magic but if he knew what was good for him, and she suspected that he did, he wouldn't come back in the room while Hawke was so infuriated

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I took some liberties with Anders' magic capabilities. Canon!people don't murder me please! It was for plot furtherisation! I'm sorry!

I had an edited version of this that was better but my browser crashed and I lost it. Needless to say the second time you write something it's never quite as good but I hope it's still acceptable. Mayhaps, I'll poke at it some more later.

CC and comments = love! They make a huge difference they truly do.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for all the reviews and favs! It means a lot to see so much interest in the story. Feedback is the best motivator in my experience :) It makes me want to write and get more reviews because... i'm a total approval!whore when it comes to fanfiction ha ha

I apologize for the delay in the update. It wouldn't have taken me so long except that my laptop recently broke :( Alas, poor Bert. I hope he gets better soon (and yes, I named my laptop). And I was also in Cuba for a little while and internet there is relatively non-exitent. Until my dear Bert is ll better, I have comandeered my room mate's laptop. And I'm officially rambling, moving on!

Medivi brought up a good point in their review. There was some confusion about the connection between Hawke and Cousland in chapter the first. In my DA!world, I just imagined that since they are two such prominent figures in Thedas, they would have met. In this case, I took it one further and made them friends because I rather like that idea. It's just a personal preference, straying away from canon in my own imagination. Sometimes, I forget to explain these things. Apologies. So yes, that is the connection I made there.

Without further ado, I present to you chapter 3 that I wrote while in Cuba. Hope the rum didn't affect my writing too much ;)

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Hawke awoke the next day feeling like something was missing. She rolled over and before her eyes had even opened she knew what that something was - much as it pained her to admit it. Part of her was glad that Anders had found her. The other part hated him for thinking she was weak enough to take him back when she'd said she would never forgive him. She hated him for complicating her life even more than it already was. Maker knew as Champion she had enough on her plate most of the time; from the title itself let alone the problems of her companions around her. And yet… she missed her mage's presence still. Her mage. She shouldn't think of him as such anymore.

Despite her conflicting emotions, she'd become accustomed to him sleeping beside her, his healing her before she'd even realized she was injured and the calm his presence always seemed to bring to her. Just about everything about the rebellious healer made her heart flutter unfortunately. Bastard. She'd never let anyone in so close as she'd let him and then he'd gone and hurt her like he had. He'd gone and killed all those innocent people. What in the hell was he thinking? It still frustrated and upset her beyond words.

She knew he was hurting but she'd thought he'd gotten beyond all that. She thought she'd helped him release some of that anger, to see that there was more to life than just his anger for the Templar order. She thought maybe he'd finally decided to let some of that go to be with her. After all, hadn't she said she would protect him? Hadn't she made sure there were escape routes from their house in Hightown in case the Templars came calling? And she would have. She would have taken down every last damn Templar if they'd come after him. She thought he trusted her. Clearly she'd been very mistaken.

She sighed as she ate breakfast. She needed to stop thinking of all these things and put him out of her mind. A distraction like Anders was the last thing she needed as she was leaving on a dangerous expedition that morning. Well… dangerous by anyone else's standards. It was really just an average day for Hawke, but that didn't mean she didn't need her full attention since she was companionless for this particular voyage. She was on her way home today. Lothering. She knew it had been destroyed during the Blight but she needed closure. She needed to know what had happened to it. She needed to see it for herself, even if it was just a pile of ruins. And so she left that very day.

She made good progress on her own. No companions to worry about tiring or complaining; just her own relentless pace through the wilds of Fereldan. The hiking through the muddy and rocky turf brought a smile to her lips as memories of her youth returned to her. She used to hike through the wilds with her father, Carver and Bethany. Carver and Bethany were easier to tire but Hawke always kept up with her father. She loved the challenge. It was almost an unspoken competition between them to see who could outlast the other before tiring in the harsh wilds that surrounded Lothering. Her apostate father usually won, of course, but that never stopped Hawke from pushing herself to best him. It was only in the last couple years before the Blight that she'd finally been able to consistently win the contest.

A dull pain somewhere in her abdomen made her stop thinking of her family. She missed them terribly and a part of her still felt like she'd failed all of them at one point or another. It was too much to bear so she instead turned her attentions to the forest around her and listened intently for any sounds of movement. Hawke's own progress was silent as her feet barely made any noise on the mossy floor. The only way an enemy would detect her was by visual means alone. She was too quiet to be heard and too clever to be caught in a trap.

She stayed off the imperial highway just because she preferred to take her chances with the creatures of the wilds rather than running straight in to an ambush set up by roadside bandits. She might have been away from Fereldan for some time but she knew exactly how it worked. How her countrymen operated. She thought she heard a noise and she instantly stealthed and made her silent way in to the shadows of a large tree. She was perfectly still as she listened for any further movement. A crack of a tree branch sounded a few feet south and she followed it silently. Someone was following her in the tree tops.

And so it was, going after that noise, that she walked in to a spider nest. They must have been sleeping in the tree tops and noticed her walking below them. There were many of these spiders; corrupted still from when the Darkspawn that had inhabited these wilds. She was used to dealing with spiders and these ones were practically miniature compared to the ones in the Free Marches. Piece of cake, she thought. She had things well under control when she heard a yell and a storm of fire reigned down from the tree tops on to the spiders, who by this time were all on the ground attacking Hawke.

"What the hell?" she questioned out loud, looking around for Anders. She knew it was him and that he'd been following her. She just had a feeling, intuition even, and wondered why she hadn't felt it earlier. Why didn't he ever listen to what he was told? She had things perfectly under control. She had seen the two spiders "sneaking" up on her and was prepared for it. To Anders it must have looked like she was being overwhelmed even though that was very much not the case. In his attempt to help however, he'd only managed to anger the spiders. Hawke, in the split second it took to be distracted by the firestorm, was bitten by one of the venomous spiders in a place where her boots failed to meet her armour.

She barely noticed the sting as she stealthed in order to flank around one of the larger spiders, plunging her daggers in to the segmented parts of its exoskeleton as she appeared again behind it. The spider hissed and curled in on itself, very much dead. A couple more well placed daggers had the spiders all dead and curled around her. The battle was over in a matter of moments. That was all Hawke really needed.

Panting slightly, Hawke sheathed the daggers on her back and bit her lip to hold back her anger. She quickly searched the bodies for any toxin extracts that could be used for the many poisons she knew how to make. She retrieved a couple that she placed in her pack all the while thinking about the situation she'd gotten herself in to. The idiot mage could have gotten her killed. He could have ruined everything. After fighting with her for so long hadn't he realized when she was and wasn't in trouble? Regardless of her effort, it boiled over and she snapped.

"Maker damn you Anders! I had everything under control. Your idea of "helping" just angered the damn things further!" Hawke yelled at the dark gloom of the wilds, since Anders had yet to show himself. She swung her arms wide as she addressed the darkness around her, turning on the spot to make sure he heard her regardless of where he was hiding. "I never would have alerted those spiders if I hadn't been chasing after your fool ass. I don't need your help; nor do I want it! Turn back and go on to Denerim or Redcliffe or Maker knows where! Just don't follow me anymore!"

There was a long pause in which she thought he might answer her. However, no answer came. Maybe he'd run away with his tail between his legs. Coward. That's what she was beginning to realize. Anders was a coward. He spoke a great deal about standing up for the mages and there was a lot of bravado but really? The whole thing with the Chantry was an act of cowardice. It occurred to her that it might not have been Anders, but some other apostate wandering around in the wilds. It would explain the lack of response. This seemed unlikely though as she knew Anders and she knew that he would likely follow her, despite her warnings at the Gnawed Noble.

Positively fuming, she grumbled to herself as she continued her trek back in to the wilds. She was a little sore from the battle but generally she didn't feel any worse than she normally would after a battle. She paused in a small grove at a pond and took some lunch. If she kept up this pace perhaps she would even be able to reach Lothering in a day or so. Definitely not today as the attack had delayed her, but perhaps tomorrow.

She was anxious about seeing her hometown. From what she'd heard of the locals in Denerim, there wasn't a whole lot left of the place. Some Lothering natives had moved back since the end of the Blight and were trying to rebuild it but the land was tainted and it was hard to grow crops. She considered the fact that her childhood home was likely burned to the ground as she packed up her stuff and continued on her way.

As she walked she wiped some sweat from her forehead, the midday sun seemed to be beating down on her relentlessly despite the dappled shade from the trees. She felt incredibly warm, but dared not remove her armour in case she should be attacked again by Maker knows what in the wilds. She paused an hour or so before sunset to take a long drink from her water skin and rest a moment. It struck her as odd that she should make such good progress in the morning but be so slowed now in the afternoon. Perhaps the battle had tired her out more than she was willing to admit. Perhaps she was getting old. She laughed off the latter comment and stowed the pouch, continuing to walk along the direction she had chosen. She would stop just before sunset and set up camp. No sense in pushing herself too hard when there was no immediate rush to get to Lothering.

She was just beginning to consider setting up camp when her vision blurred a little and she stumbled over a rock. What the- She paused, blinking a few times until her vision cleared before continuing on her way, feeling a little perplexed for the sudden symptom. She'd not gone five steps before the dizziness came on again and she wobbled a little. Her unsteady legs carried over to a tree that she leaned against for a moment, chest feeling tight and eyes tightly closed as she tried not to tumble over. Where had this come from all of a sudden? She slid down the tree trunk until she was sitting at its base and the compression of her legs sent a jolt of pain through her. She pulled back her left boot enough to see purplish lines creeping along her skin.

"Andraste's ass," she swore, biting her lip as she pulled it off carefully to get a better look. The spider bite had festered horribly over the course of the day. Trapped in her armour, the sweat and heat had done nothing to help the injury. The wound oozed a tinted liquid and purple tendrils seemed to have sprouted from the wound up and down her leg under the skin, looking like dark and sinister veins. And here she'd thought there was just a muscle cramp in her calf.

Her vision blurred worse and she turned to the side to retch, feeling sweat from her forehead run down to sting her eyes with its salty composition. She leaned heavily back against the tree and reached for her pack, which had fallen from her shoulder when she fell against the tree. She wasn't sure if she had a proper antivenom potion for this. Likely not. Perhaps she could make one. She was skilled with potions involving poisons and she'd gathered those samples from the spiders, so it was worth a shot. She pulled the pack closer, but her strength was degrading quickly and it took most of her energy to pull the backpack within easier reach. Her eyes closed and remained that way for a moment before she forced them open, trying her best to stay awake.

She heard movement beside her and panicked for a moment. A bandit! A low voice spoke to her, but it sounded muffled and far off almost as though she were underwater. A hand felt her temperature on her forehead and she forced her eyes open. Her vision was blurrier still and she could see nothing but a dark silhouette in front of her, the setting sun behind the mystery being flashed out behind them. It made them appear as though they were glowing.

She felt the cold of glass being held to her lips and a vile potion being tipped down her throat. She gagged and half the potion came back out of her mouth. It sloshed down her front as the rest of the viscous liquid made its way down her throat. It burned but after a moment, the pain in her leg seemed to lessen. A cloth smoothed across her chin, wiping away the remnants of the potion. The voice was still speaking but she had no idea what it was saying. It could have been conversing with her about the weather for all she knew. She tried to open her eyes again, still the silhouette was black as night with rays of light shining around it. She felt soothed by its presence, despite not knowing who or what it could be. No bandit had ever made her feel so safe. Perhaps it wasn't one after all.

"Are you a-an angel?" she managed weakly, hearing a low rumble from the voice that sounded something like a chuckle as a response. Sebastian had told her all about the angels of the Maker one day while they were travelling. She thought he was insane of course. She thought anyone who bought in to the whole Maker thing was maybe just a little bit off their rocker. Sebastian had persisted though and he had told her that one day they would come for her. He was convinced that though she wasn't the purest of souls, her work for the greater good had redeemed her in the eyes of the Maker. He told her that he prayed for such a thing for all his friends. Of course, that was before she'd spared Anders life. Seb probably hated her now, despite their friendship before the Chantry incident. He'd more or less told her that he would never forgive her for sparing Anders, destroyer of everything he had believed in.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she was dead and this angel had come to take her away after all. At least she would be with her parents and Carver again. Her eyes closed and she accepted her fate. If she was going to die then so be it. She was living on borrowed time anyways, as far as she was concerned. Her and Carver should have died with the rest of the king's army at Ostagar. Who would have thought it? The Champion of Kirkwall. Killed by a spider of all things. The Maker certainly had a sense of humour.

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Chapter the third! I hope it was alright. I'm not experienced in writing fight scenes so I sort of chickened out of it here. I guess I'll need to get in the practice if I'm writing DA fic hm? XD

I have chapter four waiting in the document manager but it needs some editing so I'll get to that later. Chapter five I wrote by hand while in Cuba also, so I'll try and get that typed up and uploaded as soon as I can. It's the last week of school so I'm afraid I have exams and dissertations and other ridiculous things. -sigh- But I've always been something of a procrastinator so maybe you guys will be in luck.

In any case, please read and review! Constructive criticism is always welcome and really just anything else you might want to say :)


	4. Chapter 4

I just noticed how many typos were in my little introduction to the last chapter XD I'm still using my room mate's old laptop, which she spilled pop on, so now some of the keys stick. Apologies. I'll try and catch them but I make no promises, to err is human after all. ;)

Thank you again for all the lovely comments, some are from familiar faces and some from new followers. They're all amazing comments and very appreciated. I can say that I honestly didn't expect this many hits to my story and it's one of the biggest compliments I could ever hope for. Thank you ^.^

Alas, I received terrible news from the nice best buy technician and that is that Bert (my laptop) is quite dead. Cause of death: fried motherboard. R.I.P. Bert, you were so good to me. Until I can figure out how I'm going to buy a new computer, I'll have to deal with Mr. Sticky-keys here. So again, apologies if I miss any typos. I usually do several revisions before publishing but sometimes you miss some pretty obvious errors when reading your own work ha ha

Enough rambling. We left Hawke in quite a dire situation did we not? Let's see how our heroine is getting on shall we?

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Hawke groaned and turned over in her bedroll; the quilted fabric helping but not quite eliminating the dull ache from lying on the rocky Fereldan terrain beneath her. Her head was throbbing like someone had hit her with a mallet, her mouth and throat felt dry as though her lips had not touched water in weeks and her tunic was drenched in her own sweat like she'd run for ages. Wait… bedroll? Realiation hit home and she sat up suddenly, pressing a hand to her head as the pain increased ten fold with the jerky movement. The sudden action brought on a fit of nausea as well and she turned over and was sick again, arms shaking slightly as she tried not to collapse on the ground (and subsquently in the pile of sick) in front of her.

"Easy…" a warm, and painfully familiar, voice whispered as someone rubbed her back to offer comfort. There was something so completely reassuring about someone rubbing your back when you were sick that just made you feel better automatically. Almost as nice as the courtesy of someone holding your hair for you while you were sick in the bushes after too much ale so as not to defile it. Friends like that were hard to come by, but when you found them-oh when you found them!-hang on to those people forever.

A cloth towel materialized in her field of vision and she accepted it, wiping her mouth with as much grace as she could manage in her current state and breathing raggedly. Following the towel, a water skin appeared in front of her and she mumbled out a "thanks" in a scratchy voice to the mage before rinsing her mouth and spitting out the bitter taste that lingered.

Her fever seemed to have broken, explaining the cold sweat that seemed to cover every inch of her skin. Someone had removed her armour and her hair, usually held back in a bun to be out of the way, had slipped out of its usual hold and was stuck to the sides of her clammy face. The rogue imagined she looked all kinds of attractive right now. Flames.

Gentle but strong hands helped her lay back down and she sighed when she saw who it was; confirming her thoughts about the owner's voice as she saw his face clearly over top of her. This possibility was not unexpected and she'd considered it even as she was being sick over the side of the bedroll. Who else would have the nerve to strip her out of her armour, unafraid of receiving a dagger in the temple? Speaking of, those powerful hands were now tugging the bedroll, along with her on it, over a few feet away from the mess she had just made on the floor and closer to the fire in the middle of the camp.

Anders chuckled as he spread the blankets back out and pulled the covers back up over her legs, "Wouldn't want you laying in a pile of… well… that. That was some nasty poison those spiders had. Fortunate that I was following you so closely after all hm? I got that anti-venom down your throat just in time. I've been using some healing spells too, but… I was worried it was too late for awhile there. You looked… bad." The strain in his voice was enough to betray his feelings, echoed two fold by the dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep as he fussed over the ailing rogue.

Hawke laughed sarcastically, pulling the blankets up around her shoulders as she shivered, "Thanks. Glad to hear I can still knock 'em dead with my looks."

"No. _No_!" Anders exclaimed, looking astonished at the misunderstanding. Despite how terrible Hawke felt? She couldn't help but feel a little amused watching him stammer and splutter to defend himself as his face blanched. Chances to knock the mage off balance were few and far between so she needed to take advantage of the opportunity while she had it. She didn't bother telling him that she was joking. Just watched him squirm. "You always look great! You know that! I didn't mean it like that... You know all the guys are crazy about you. Varric. Fenris. Even that chantry boy Sebastian used to look at you like he could think of a few things to do with you that he'd have a hard time confessing later. It's part of what made me think I was dreaming when you picked me. I just meant… Maker, you were so pale. I thought I was going to lose you."

He tentatively brought his fingers up and brushed a few strands of her hair behind her ears on both sides, revealing the moss green of her eyes. A smile crept unbidden across his face before he took the cloth and wiped the cold sweat from her face. There was a slight serenity about him as he dabbed the sweat from her brow; a sort of easy disposition that hadn't surfaced since that first year with him in Kirkwall. Hawke's eyes were half-lidded as she looked up at him, still feeling exhausted from the illness as the poison had left her stamina mostly depleted. Like the smile to Anders face, thoughts crept unbidden in to Hawke's mind. Damn him for looking so gorgeous still. Damn him for saving her life for… the umpteenth time. Just damn him.

"Don't think you're forgiven," she stated, voice coming out in the same hoarse, low tone that sounded so unlike her usual speech. Infuriatingly enough he had the nerve to laugh and cupped a hand to her cheek, running his thumb along her cheekbone tenderly. The look in his eyes was warm and playful and it almost looked like the Anders she knew. The one she loved. His thumb stroking along her skin made her feel warm and feverish for a different reason and she got angry with herself for the influence he clearly still had over her. Well... if she'd had the energy to really work up a temper that is. If she didn't know any better she'd swear he could use compulsion or something. Was that even a school of magic?

"Why do you always have to be so difficult?" he questioned with amusement, lying down beside her and propping his head up on his hand to better look at her.

Hawke considered this for a moment, the slightest trace of a smirk quirking up the one side of her lips as she forgot her anger briefly. "Because that's the way you like it. And I wouldn't want to make it too easy for you. You mages have it far too easy already."

Anders laughed out right at this and the sound made Hawke's insides squirm. He wasn't always as serious as people in Kirkwall knew him to be. At home he liked to joke around with her; his sarcasm complimented her dry wit perfectly. They were always making each other laugh and smile. Varric had once told her that it was both nauseating and contagious to watch them. Or they had been. The mage could always get her to smile, no matter how terrible things had gotten in Kirkwall. Until that eventful day at the very least... She was chased from her thoughts when his hand slid down her cheek to caress the side of her neck, making like he was trying to check her pulse as his fingers moved just under her jaw line. Real smooth doctor…

She didn't even have to look at him to hear the smile in his voice. It caused a wave of warmth and solace to run through her like she'd just had a warm cup of tea. Finally turning her head, she saw the smile she'd heard before. The expression reached his eyes and the clarity she saw in them made her ache to simply forgive the fool. And then the comment he dropped on her. Oh maker. "You wouldn't be my Ev if you didn't make me work for it."

The nickname brought on more mixed feelings. It felt comfortable and wonderful in a way only pet names could when shared between close friends or lovers. It equally brought back all the bitterness she had been feeling before about the chantry massacre. She wanted to respond. Actually she wanted to pull him down and kiss him breathless. Those lips of his looked so damn inviting too. She could remember the feel of them on hers like it had been but moments prior; the surprising softness of them in stark contrast to the chapped lips the men she usually encountered had. It wouldn't take much to just…

Abruptly she looked away, a frown crossing her features as she fought to gain control of herself again. How did he do this to her every time? It had to be some sort of magic. A simple man had never affected her so. How did he make her feel like she wasn't even in control of her own actions? Her own body? He saw the look cross her face and a sigh escaped from those perfect tender lips as his thumb stroked along her jaw line now.

"Hey… what just happened there? How long are you going to make me pay?" the mage murmured softly to her. It was something that she honestly didn't know how to answer. How long could you hold someone accountable for actions as terrible as those? Especially when you knew you were still in love with them. And when you yourself had killed so many; but never innocents! No, never innocents. A personal creed that she adheered to and could never step away from. Not even for half a second. She didn't know how she could put her own selfish desires ahead of her morals and beliefs. His smooth voice interrupted her thoughts as it had so many times that night, "I know you must not hate me completely. If you did, you wouldn't even be giving me the time of day right now. You wouldn't be letting me touch you..."

As if he'd alerted her to it and she hadn't noticed before she shoved his hand away forcefully; which in her current state just sort of resulted in a weak push. She was still spent from the poison and it took a lot of energy to move her arm. Anders sighed again but didn't try and touch her, "Ev please. Please don't do this to me. I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry. I _had_ to, can't you understand? I want nothing more than to be with you. You don't even know how much I've been missing you. I've been going crazy without you. I feel like I'm losing myself more and more. You kept me level, without you… I don't want to think about what it's like without you come to that. _Please_..."

There was a desperate quality to his voice that made her do a double take. She wanted to be with him. Maker, did she ever want to. Why couldn't he understand how hard this was for her too? Gritting her teeth, she sighed with exasperation, "If that was me keeping you level then I would hate to see what would happen if you ever got out of control. Probably blow up all of Thedas."

"That's not fair," he countered, sitting up and looking at her with a sort of longing that she wasn't expecting. The look wasn't even completely lustful; part of it just looked like he wantd to be held and told that everything was going to be okay as cliche as that sounded. She faltered under that gaze, but then her resolve returned and she pushed the covers from his bedroll off of her with conviction. Or a pale immitation of it.

"I don't care," she told him, struggling to stand up and wobbling a little as she did so. Her legs wavered like those of a new colt, trying to stand for the first time only to have their legs slip out from under them.

Anders' hands shot out and grabbed her around the waist, trying to get her to lie back down. Concern filled his voice as he stood up with her, "What are you crazy? You almost died! Lie back down. Now!" The concern waged war with a surprising edge of forcefulness and she was slightly taken back by the tone. And maybe a little turned on. However, she was not to be phased by such things.

"No. I can't be around you. If that means I have to leave, so be it…" Hawke replied stubbornly, struggling to stand and trying to get over to her armour. She couldn't be around him. She didn't trust herself not to just forgive him, which was completely idiotic. She couldn't just substitute her morals for her desires. No matter how strong those desires might be. Really, really strong. Shaking it off, she wobbled a little as the dizziness returned to her.

Anders looked conflicted before sighing heavily and stepping in front of her, "Lay back down. Please. I don't want you to hurt yourself further. I… I'll go. I'll leave camp. Just please… don't strain yourself. I don't want you to get sick again. If you wanted me to leave… you just had to say so." She couldn't help the pang of guilt that shot through her at the look of hurt on his face. The bastard always did have the best kicked mabari look. It had gotten him his way many times before, but not this time. Oh no. She shook it off quickly enough. He had to know she wasn't going to just forgive him. It went against who she was and he should have expected that.

"I thought I had told you to leave me be… back in Denerim," she snapped, breath coming out sharply when she tried to sit down and aggravated the wound. Anders instantly went to her side to help her lie down but she shook him off. "Leave me! I'm fine! Just… go."

She lowered herself down on to the bedroll and turned over on to her side and away from him as she pulled the covers up around her shoulders as an additional barrier betweeen them. Watching him walk away was just something she couldn't do. Not again. Noises around the camp indicated the collection of his things before she heard his footsteps stop just behind her. She pretended she was sleeping so that he would just go away. Unexpectedly, he crouched down beside her and felt her forehead one last time, checking for a fever. His hand was gentle against her forehead as he checked, fingers coming back to sweep her hair behind her ear once again as he let go of her. Soft words came from softer lips as he bent and pressed a light kiss to her temple, "As you wish…"

Hawke listened as his footsteps quieted with distance and pulled the covers tighter around her; a chill that had nothing to do with her illness creeping over her. A tear threatened to slide down her cheek but she wiped it away angrily before such a thing could happen. The Champion did not cry. Not over a man. Not over anything.

* * *

Just hug it out guys. Come on. XD Ha ha! Suuuuuure that would be far too easy and consequently would make for a very short story.

Thoughts on this fourth chapter? Would you forgive him? Is Hawke being too harsh? I want to hear what you would do in her shoes.

I have an exam monday (should be studying right now) and the next chapter is still in actual written form (like on paper) so not sure when the next update will be. Hopefully middle of next week? We shall see. :)


	5. Chapter 5

And I thought the response to the previous chapter was awesome. You guys have floored me honestly. Thank you so much for all the lovely comments ^.^

A big thanks in particular to Lastwell for the great message. It pretty much made my day. Not gonna lie. That's maybe one of the biggest compliments you could give me :) I meant to message you sooner but you've turned off the PM option, my dear. Mumford and Sons is some of my favourite writing music coincidentally XD

I apologize for the wait for the update. I know I promised a lot of you it would be finished last week. I suck, I know :P But here it is! At last! I was distracted by finals and this idea I got for another fic that just wouldn't leave me alone so I had to start writing it. If any of you are interested in the Assassin's Creed series, you might like to check it out :) It's a modern day AU mostly concerning Desmond and Shaun (so yes, it's slash), but I'm also brining in Altair/Malik and Ezio/Leonardo. Yay! You can find it in my profile, it's called 'Just Once'.

Do not fret my good DA people! Just because I'm writing another story does not mean I'll forget about this one, but I might not update as frequently. Enough talk, here's the chapter you were promised my lovelies...

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Other than the pain in her leg slowing her progress, Hawke had no further delays to her voyage home. She couldn't help wondering if Anders had finally decided to listen to her and stop shadowing her. For his sake, she hoped that he did. It wast that she wasn't thankful for him saving her life, it was more that she didn't trust herself around him. So many times yesterday she'd found herself far too close to just wallowing her pride and taking him back. He'd been so good to her, taken such care in healing her... been his usual sweet self really. She had to keep reminding herself just what he'd done and the angry red glow of the terrible magic that had struck the chantry down. All those voices silenced in moments at the whim of a mage possessed by a virtue. Abomination. No. Not Anders. She'd never thought of him as such and he wasn't about to start now. Anders claimed him and Justice were one now, but she wasn't so sure. How much of that attack was Justice and how much of it was Anders?

She descended a set of stone stairs from the imperial highway in the clearing around Lothring and sighed heavily. It looked... somber. Everything was dark and decayed, even the grass had shrivelled up during the Blight, affected by the Darkspawn taint just like everything else. Still, there was hope that the land could be healed; she noticed a couple patches of green fighting their way through. A couple flowereing shrubs attempting to bloom, some trees with buds that looked like they were waiting for spring. Only it was summer in Fereldan. Still it gave Hawke hope that one day her hometown might recover from the terrible battle. Walking past the remnants of the windmill, she made her way in to what used to be the row of houses on the edge of the village. A few had been rebuilt and a glow lit the windows within, the only sign that the village was occupied at all as the streets were completely devoid of life.

It was dusk and Hawke was exhausted; she noted a larger building in approximately the same location as the previous tavern. She limped towards it with the branch she'd been using as a crutch. Pushing the door open slightly, she expected to be greeted by raucous laughter and jostling people, instead she found a handful of farmers sipping their drinks, all turning to look at the newcomer as the already quiet tavern became compeltely silent. Hawke felt uneasy for half a second, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling intuituvely to some unseen danger. It was quickly abated by a familiar, boisterous voice calling her attention.

"It can't be! Little Lina? Is that you all grown up? I heard some crazy rumours from a travelling merchant that you were some big shot in the Free Marches. As famous as our own Hero of Fereldan he said. Come to see where it was you were born, he had. I couldn't believe it! Come in! Come in!" He gestured her forward and she smiled at the old barkeep. He looked just the same as she remembered. Still tall and broad, with strong features and that prominent moustache of his. He'd always been kind to the Hawke family and Hawke was glad to see that he'd survived the attack somehow. She should have known he would still be around here.

She hobbled forward and shook his hand with a familiarness that she'd missed, "Danal, you old hurlock, how in the Maker did you make it out of this hell hole alive?" she asked, leaning against the bar for extra support to take the pressure off her leg. "I suppose it takes more than a few Darkspawn to catch you though doesn't it?"

He laughed and clapped her hard on the shoulder, sending a shockwave of pain down to her knee and making her grimace. "Was more than a few come through these parts Lina, you and your family were among the lucky ones. I managed to escape thanks to some help from the Hero herelf in the poison department of all things. Who would have thought our sweet little queen was such a conoisseur in the deadly arts? This was before she was the Hero and our lovely queen of course. Long live our King Alistair!" he said the last sentence in a booming voice that carried across the bar and was echoed happily back at him by the farmers. Obviously content with the ruling pair that saw over their country.

The talk of her family as "the lucky ones" made her upet though. Had they really been any luckier in the end? Her perhaps. Her parents and brother certainly not. Their deaths had not been kind. All three were violent. Hawke had heard once that people who suffered violent deaths wandered around the Fade, unable to find peace until their killers were found. Hawke had dealt with the killers fast enough and she hoped her loved ones were now at peace.

A bounty hunter had killed her father just 3 years before the Blight had descended upon Lothering. The man had thought he would take Malcolm Hawke in to the templars but he hadn't been counting on such a fight. For the ensuing battle the bounty hunter had unfairly hired additional mercenaries to help him capture Malcolm. Her father had taken out all the mercenaries but the battle had tired him and he was unable to avoid a dagger in the stomach. The man had fled Lothering when he saw Hawke and Carver; his bounty was only to be collected if the mage was alive anyways. Bethany had tried to heal him but it was magic beyond her capabilities and her father had bled out, cradled in Hawke's arms. Hawke had turned it around on the bounty hunter and with Carver's help they'd hunted him in the wilds. They had the advantage of being familiar with the surrounding wilds where the bounty hunter was not. She had no trouble catching him and even though she was just a teenager, she had even less trouble in avenging her father, if a little brutally. Carver had had to pull her away, which might have been saying something.

And then look what happened to Carver. Pummelled mercilessly in to a rock by an ogre. He'd always had a stupid sense of honour that boy. Stupid. She still didn't know what he was thinking, charging in to the thing by himself. If he'd only waited for her so they could have worked together to take out the great, bleeding thing. Like when the bounty hunter had killed her father, Hawke was consumed with a blood lust and she'd been unable to rest until the ogre's head was hers. Her vision clouded over and she knew nothing but the ogre in front of her. She didn't hear her mother's cries over Carver's body, not Aveline's yells as she sliced through hurock after hurlock, not even Bethany's attempts to get through to Hawke. All she knew was that that ogre was dead. Even if he didn't know it yet.

Her mother was a different story completely. It could have been avoided if only she'd told her about the killer. It was a rule of hers to avoid telling her mother about her exploits. It only seemed to worry the woman and she'd had enough of that in her life. And then that bastard... Her fist clenched in anger when she thought about what that filthy blood mage had done to her. Killing him wasn't enough. She should have made the bastard suffer and dragged it out longer instead of the swift death he received. Hawke wished in that moment she knew magic to bring him back to life so that she could cut off his apendanges and see how he liked it.

She was taken from her thoughts when she realized Danal was still talking to her, "-re looking a little worse for wear, Lina. Why don't you grab a room upstairs? No charge. I don't want to hear a fuss about it" he interrupted when she began to protest, holding up his hands, "Couldn't possibly charge the Champion of Kirkwall for a room. And you don't need to feel like an imposition because they're not occupied anyways."

She smiled gratefully at the man and thanked him before moving her way upstairs. Her thoughts immediately drifted to the warm suddy water of a hot bath. The small luxuries of clean skin became really apparent while you were on the road for an extended period of time. As if her mind had been read, a couple pitchers of hot water were brought up and poured in to the stone bath by one of the serving maids. Almost a week's worth of dirt and grime from the wilds had built up on her skin, not to mention the sweat from the illness. She was certain she smelled pretty fantastic right about then.

She stripped down and gingerly peeled off the health poultice Anders had applied in the woods with a wince. It had since adhered itself to her skin and she'd had to use a bit of bath water to soften it up. It looked like it was healing nicely but it was definitely a nasty bite. She wondered how she hadn't noticed it before she'd gotten sick. Hissing with pain, she slid in to the bath and the warm water washed over the torn skin from the bite making her wince harder. It was painful but it was a good pain, the kind you grinned and bared because you knew it was cleansing your wounds and would make you feel better later. Sort of like the feeling after you pull out a splinter, it hurts but you know it'll feel nice afterwards.

After the water had gone cold and her fingers and toes were pruny she finally climbed our and dried off. She made her way to the bed with the towel wrapped around her and pulled out the various ingredients she had for potions and poisons as well as her mortar and pestle. "Useless... uselss... that could work... useless... useless..." she sighed as she looked through her ingredients. She wasn't a healer. She didn't carry most things needed for this, she mostly had ingredient for poisons. Still she had a little elfroot and she'd heard mention from a Dalish hunter that pumpkin helped speed up the healing. Fortunately, she had a bit of pumpkin left over from some lunch she'd made for herself earlier in the day.

Throwing the ingredients in the bowl she ground them up in to a fine paste and then smeared it over her leg before tearing up an old tunic and wrapping it around her leg tightly, tying some twine around it to keep it in place but not tight enough to cut off the circulation. She dressed in the last of her clean clothes and then gave the rest to the maid to be washed. A loud rumble came from her abdominal region and she finally limped downstairs to sit with the farmers and have a bit of supper. While she'd been upstairs Danal had gone all out and had a bit of a feast prepared for her and the villagers in honour of her coming home. She was touched that they'd remembered her, even if they hadn't stayed in Lothering long. Small villages were like that though.

Things were nice for a time and a week seemed to go by faster than she had expected. She didn't know how long she planned to stay. Hadn't really thought that far in advance. She just knew she'd wanted to get back to Lothering. And here she was. Now what?

That night she went down to dinner and as she descended the stairs she was instantly aware of a group that could only be described as a suspicious lot sitting in the corner and whispering amongst themselves. They looked up at Hawke as she entered and went silent. She pretended like she cared nothing for them, using her peripherals instead to keep an eye on them. Her act seemed to have worked as they decided she was not a threat and went back to their discussion. If only she could ger closer. She felt like she owed it to Aveline to look in to this. The guard captain's strong sense of morals seemed to have rubbed off on her after all.

She went around the corner and when she was certain no one in the tavern could see her, she stealthed and made her slow way over to listen in to the conversation. She got close and pressed herself against the wall in case any of them were to get up suddenly. The one at the very back was speaking and his words became clearer as she got closer, "-tact with the Templars and should be hearing back soon. I hear they're excited to get their hands on this one. Been hunting them for a long time they have."

Another gruff voice, continued eagerly, "Better be worth it. That bastard is a right handful, he is... Took all the magic resisting runes we had to keep him drained enough not to put up much of a fight. Poor old Hankin has some right nasty burns on his arms because we didn't figure it out fast enough. Fixed that bloody mage though. There are tons of boxes around him now, can barely lift a finger he's so weak."

One of the highwaymen nodded his agreement before draining his tankard of ale, "Right powerful blighter he is. Probably a blood mage... no wonder the Templars want him so badly. Probably want to see about the execution of such a powerful blood mage personally. Who knows what he'd call upon in the desperation to live?"

A chill ran through Hawke as she listened, somehow she knew they were talking about Anders. It sounded ridiculous but she just knew and so far her instincts had guided her pretty well before so she wouldn't ignore them now. It seemed like it was impossible for someone to catch him but accidents happened and even Anders messed up now and again. A highwayman got up from the table and Hawke had to hop suddenly to the side to avoid him runnung in to her, the sudden pain that shot through her leg made her swallow a whimper. The highwayman that had just stood up, stiffened and paused in his progress as he turned towards the noise. Hawke held her breath as he approached the apparently empty space, looking around suspiciously. She was backed up against the wall as far as she could go without passing through it and the bandit continued to approach her, he finally stopped mere inches from her and she held her breath.

"Aren't you late to relieve Piers from his guard duty?" one of the one's that looked like he had superior rank snapped at him.

"Yeah," the bandit agreed, looking around one last time before turning away from her and tipping his head to the others, "Gents..." he joked, before heading towards the door.

Hawke followed as quickly as she could manage while hobbling and trying to remain stealthed. The highwayman headed off towards the river where she knew there to be caverns filled with spiders. She hoped the highwaymen had been smart enough to clear them out first. Her spider quota had been filled for a while yet.

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Apologies for the lame chapter. Every story needs some filler/transition chapters to lead in to the more exciting ones. I'm afraid this is one of those ha ha I'll try to get another one up by the end of the week though. I already have most of it written.

A couple explanations for this chapter. I took some liberties with Malcolm Hawke's death. I figured, given Hawke's luck with these things, it wasn't a fun way to go either. And I borrowed this idea from another fic (can't remember which one), that if you have enough magic resistant runes in proximity to a mage it would drain their power. Kinda makes sense... I just went with it. Seems like the only way you'd be able to keep Anders down anyways XD

Please read and review :) And if you like Assassin's Creed, check out my other story too! *end self advertising* Have a great week guys :)


	6. Chapter 6

Hey folks! Sorry it took so long for an update, I need to stop promising updates at certain times because clearly, as in real life, I'm rubbish with deadlines. In any case, thank you so so so so much to all those who commented (you have no idea how much I appreciate the comments) and thank you to all the new followers and favouriters. Your support means so much to me. ^.^

The delay was partly because a good deal of this chapter was written in my notebook and I couldn't find it. More organization: my life needs it ha ha Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the update and that everyone had a good long weekend. Happy Easter to those who celebrate and for those of us who don't, happy cheap chocolate weekend! Hells yeah. Gonna load up on mini eggs... nom nom

WARNING: This chapter is pretty gory. If it bothers you to read about gratuitous violence and bloodshed, then it might not be the bet option for you. Ye've been warned me hearties...

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The highwaymen must have been slightly more intelligent than they had first appeared because there were no spiders in sight, just a few old cobwebs and cocoons around the outskirts of the rocky outcrop where the caves had been. Following him around the corner showed a lit entrance in to the caves with two sentries posted out front on guard patrol. The highwayman waved at them as he passed by and Hawke carefully sidestepped them still cloaked in stealth and quietly disarmed a couple traps that had been set out as a safeguard. It was noted upon entry to the inner cave that there were about six others in the cavern; all sitting around a low table and playing cards. Behind them lay Anders, unconscious, bruised and bloodied in what looked like a bear cage and Hawke felt her chest constrict painfully at the sight. They might not have been on the best of terms at the moment but it sill hurt her to see him in pain. Placed hither thither around the cage were dozens of crates of the runes the other highwayman had been talking about. From her place pressed against the wall she could make out the glinting lyrium etched in to the runes in the form of the magic resistance symbol. Anders was used to a couple of them, like the ones in Hawke's own daggers, but this many in such close proximity would certainly drain his mana and leave the mage relatively defenseless.

Hawke couldn't just leave him lying there, who knew what the Templars would do to him. It seemed a likely scenario that they would just execute him for being an "abomination"; it wasn't as though there were any reported cases of mages being possessed by holy virtues, just demons. And you have to admit, that's probably a good line for a demon to use. As far as Hawke was concerned Justice may as well have been a demon considering her experience with the spirit. She hadn't known him before he had joined with Anders, not that she had known Anders either, but one thing she was absolutely sure of and that was that they were both worse off for the union. In any case, standing around and letting the Templars get their lyrium-grabbing hands on Anders was simply not an option.

Sneaking back out to the entrance of the cavern, Hawke decided it would be a solid plan to take care of the guards stationed out front first so that they could not run back to the tavern for reinforcements once hell broke loose within the cave. They were standing beside each other and she decided it was just a little too easy. Stepping around them so that she was standing in front of them, she quietly unsheathed her daggers and held a dagger to each of their throats, arms crossed as she eased them closer to their exposed necks. Taking a breath she pulled the daggers quickly inwards, arms uncrossing gracefully as she successfully slit both of their throats in a smooth, simultaneous double kill. Blood spurted from the wounds across her front and undoubtedly her face as well, but Hawke was too used to the sensation of the warm liquid to be really bothered by it anymore. She appeared immediately after the attack as the effort always removed the effect and the guards looked at her in shock, unable to speak as they gargled their own blood and grasped pointlessly at their throats. Not a moment later they had both collapsed to the ground dead and Hawke resumed her stealthed state to go and deal with the other six.

The others would not be so simple to dispatch; they had numbers and she was injured but she had the element of surprise and undoubtedly better dueling skills then a bunch of simple mercenaries, thanks in large part to Isabela. She flanked the table so that she stood between the guards and the exit and approached a bench where two of the guards were. Taking another long breath she plunged her daggers in to their kidneys with a satisfying surprised scream from each of them. Yes, very satisfying. It wasn't that she enjoyed killing, well... maybe she didn't mind it all that much after all. Not when they were animals like these men: heartless, cruel and terrible.

Element of surprise effectively gone, it left Hawke in the open with 4 angry highwaymen. Leaving her daggers for the moment where they were, buried in the backs of the other bandits, she pulled a dagger from the side of one of the men she'd just killed and threw it at one of the bandits on the other side of the table, getting him in the eye and seeing him topple over dead as his companions. That left three, she noted, pulling her daggers from the other two and stepping back from the table so she had space to fight. She heard Anders stir with the commotion and knew that he was watching the whole thing now.

The highwayman from the tavern earlier, pointed at her and shouted with surprise, "Oi, it's the crippled bitch from the tavern!"

One of the others turned on the man that had just spoken with a glare, "How did you let a cripple follow you all the way back here! Didn't you notice you were being followed?"

While they argued Hawke took the opportunity to go after the third bandit. She kicked a miasmic flask at them, momentarily stunning the lot of them and giving her ample time to slip behind the third man. Scissoring her daggers inward she practically sliced the man in half and he fell to the ground in front of her as she pulled her daggers from the frayed flesh at his sides as he joined the growing pile of corpses on the ground. The two remaining highwaymen seemed to put their differences aside momentarily and attacked her immediately after, she parried one as she stabbed at the other. The idiot she had followed was not quite as stupid as he looked however and he kicked his leg out, effectively nailing her right on the wound on her leg. She smacked him across the face with a crunch from her knuckles and he fell to the ground. With him out of the way she managed to flank the other man and spinning so that her back was to his, she drove both of her daggers back behind her and in to his spine. She was rewarded with another cry as he fell to the ground, writhing in pain on the floor but soon to bleed out from his injuries.

She was caught in a moment of admiring her handiwork when Anders yelled out in warning, "Ev! Behind you!"

The warning came just in time and she dodged to the side just as the last one lunged at her with his longsword, the blade grazing her arm in a long but thankfully shallow gash. It wasn't enough to really hinder her and she succeeded in spinning around to drive a dagger in to his stomach, twisting and pulling the blade up with a growl. Just because he'd pissed her off she hoped it took him awhile to bleed out. The man looked just as surprised as the guards outside and she smirked at him, "Not quite crippled am I?" she asked, putting her foot on him as she kicked forward to remove him from her dagger and kick him to the ground.

The adrenaline pumping through her veins dimmed as the battle ended and the pain came back full force to her leg and now her arm, which was bleeding moderately and leaving the sleeve of her tunic painted crimson. She was forced to lean heavily against the table with her hip as she caught her breath. Anders' voice behind her made her jump in surprise because she'd almost forgotten about him in the heat of battle.

"Take your time Ev," he told her softly, leaning back against the bars of the cage, "You got them all. Don't worry..."

Reality came sharply back in to focus and she shook her head at him, straining for breath a little as she stumbled over to the cage. She sorely wished she had her crutch right now, "No... need to... leave now... more... at inn..." The highwayman who appeared to be the best dressed, and likely in charge, was searched and she found the keys on him. Shuffling back over to the lock, she opened it and held the door open for Anders.

The mage lifted himself up with a wince, clutching ribs that were likely broken as he exited the cage. Hawke pressed a hand to the wound on her arm to stem the blood flow as she limped towards the exit. Grabbing his staff from the opposite wall, Anders caught up with Hawke and wrapped an arm around her waist to help support her with a bit of a chuckle, "We're in great shape, the pair of us are... Put your arm around my shoulders and lean on me. Don't argue Evangelina..." She rolled her eyes at the use of her full name which he only did when he was trying to make a point. The urge to argue with him was high but she couldn't deny that the fight had taken a lot out of her, so she sucked up her pride and did as she was told.

She caught the smile on his face as she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and was quick to snap out a response, "I'm only doing this because I'm in so much bloody pain. Should have just left you in that Maker forsaken place..."

The bastard had the nerve to laugh at her and he squeezed his arm tighter around her waist, "You never would have done that. Despite everything, you can't seem to kill me. Or let anyone else kill me for that matter. Admit it. It's love, try and explain it my dear... How did you find me anyways?"

She pointedly ignored the comment about love and shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly, "Doesn't matter. I found you before they sold you to the Templars and that's really all that's important..."

He smiled a little more and leaned in like he was going to kiss her but seemed to think better of it at the last minute, whether it was because she was still covered in blood or because he thought she would punch him in the face Hawke couldn't be sure. It seemed just like no time had passed; them saving each others lives and joking about the fact that they almost died afterwards. Which always seemed to get them excited for other things... They couldn't act on it right now though. At least she couldn't. Or wouldn't might be a little more accurate.

Anders was angling them towards the wilds instead of the town and she shook her head, "All my things are at the inn. Plus, the whole reason I'm here is to see Lothering again. I can't just leave..." she argued, trying to pull them back towards the inn.

The mage stopped them in their tracks until they could come to a decision, "I can't go in there Ev. You said there were more mercenaries in there. I can't stay here either... they sent for the Templars already. I need to get a head start on them and I'm sure they indicated in the message to meet in Lothering. They'll come for me here. I can't stay. I know you want to stay... but... I wish you would come with me." The internal battle must have been written plainly across her face because he quickly added, "At least until both of our injuries are healed. We need to protect each other in this weakened state, you know?"

It was a valid point. They were both vulnerable right now; Anders for the Templars and Hawke for her many, many enemies. She could always stay with him until she was all healed and then come back to Lothering. It would still be there. That seemed like a reasonable compromise right? "Well... alright. I want my things though. I don't have much in this world, but I like the things that I have. Take me back to the inn, we can sneak around back and I'll get Danal to grab my things and pay him for some supplies until we reach the next town."

The expression on Anders face lit up and Hawke had the impression that she was going to regret this decision for companionship. So long as he kept his hands to himself, and he better, she could only assume that it would be alright. After all, they'd traveled together for a long time before they'd become a couple and that had been fine. This would be fine. At least, that was what she needed to keep convincing herself.

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Oh Hawke, just give it up already... we know what you want. XD Probably because we all want it too.

Hope the chapter was satisfactory :D Please read and review! I love hearing what you guys think, even if the comment is just 'this is good' lol or 'this is rubbish' for that matter.

Also, if you like Assassin's Creed, check out my other story (Des/Shaun, Altair/Malik and Ezio/Leo). You can find it in my profile, entitled 'Just Once'.

Cheers mates! Have a good weekend! ;)


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